The Saturday Journal: Doorways and Words.

53 minutes ago

4 min read

I’m in the basement–it’s dark–the walls are full of spiders and bugs. I’m so close to the door–the door with the window–my only light, it shines dimly through the window. And my hand–it’s inches away from the door knob. I’m trying so hard to reach it–open the door. But I can’t. And I wake up–startled from a dream I can’t seem to shake.

As I walked the cobbled streets of Old Salem and Salem College on this fall afternoon–I couldn’t help but notice the many doorways–some of the doors and buildings older than our country. I pondered on the different types of doorways and the entrances to the buildings in which they lead. And I began reflecting back–some 24 years ago when I walked up the row of steps to the Main Hall of Salem College–took a deep breath and opened the door--the door I would open many more times in the years to come–the door that led me to one of the greatest gifts of my life.

Dr. Alice Patterson, slightly older than me at the time –her frame was small and her hair--as white as fresh snow. She greeted me with a smile–introduced herself and pronounced my name correct–the very first time! We walked to her office and we sat in chairs–close. It was not one of division where she sat across the desk and me, in front of her. Our conversation was warm–like old friends–catching up. She asked me about my life–my children–why I wanted to enroll at Salem–what I wanted to study.

I shared with her my story–about the time I had enrolled at Salem College when my children were in elementary school. A little of why it didn’t work out. And now both my kids are in college, so--here I am.

Then she got up out of her chair–walked over to her desk and said, ‘I have your old application right here. We’ve kept it the whole time–it’s been waiting on you. You paid an application fee then--no need in you paying it again. Now, let’s look over the fall schedule and get you registered.'

She pulled out what looked like an index card and asked, ‘Now how many nights can you come?’

She went over the classes I needed for my major–’this class and this class–you need–can you come on Tuesday and Thursday nights?’

Yes, I can make that work. I’m taking a class at Wilkes Community College on Monday night–that will work.

She smiled again–her small and wrinkled hand–she laid on mine. ‘You are registered! Welcome to Salem College! I’m so happy you are here! I can’t wait to see what you accomplish! You’re going to be fine, I promise.’

And just like that, I was a college student–a non-traditional–over 40-year-old college student. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up.

My youngest granddaughter–she was sitting at the coffee table–her little chair pulled close. This same table serves as her school desk–sometimes she’s the student–sometimes she’s the teacher–either way–she’s quick to tell me the role I’ll be playing. And on this day she had her journal in her lap–her pencil in hand.

‘Can you help me with something Granna?’

Sure–what do you need?

‘I’m sharing these with my friends,’ and she lifted her journal so I could see what she had written. ‘Can you think of any more?’

And in her first grade handwriting she had written–

Be brave.

Don’t quit.

Don’t give up.

You can do this.

Don't be afraid

There are many stories in the Bible about this kind of encouragement–the kind my Granddaughter is giving to her friends–the encouraging words and kindness Dr. Patterson shared with me along with many others–it would take a lifetime to name.

A couple of stories in the Holy Book that come to mind are the familiar story of Esther–how her cousin Mordecai encouraged her to open the door–appear before the king–talk to her husband. Go in. Uninvited. Her people were depending on her. (Book of Esther)

And a different kind of story--the story of the Woman with the Issue of Blood–bleeding for twelve years and how she braved the crowd–on hands and knees and touched the hem of Jesus’ garment. (Matthew 9:18-22; Mark 5:25-34; Luke 8:43-48)

The Bible doesn’t tell us if there was anyone in her family–her circle of friends–strangers–anyone who might have encouraged her to step out–walk through the door–go find Jesus. And maybe not, but here's the thing--maybe she had no one to encourage her--but after her healing--I believe she began the encourager--herself. Here's why I believe this--as I read further on in scripture–more people than just this woman touched the hem of His garment--others were healed--changed.

And besought Him that they might only touch the hem of His garment: and as many as touched were made perfectly whole. (Matthew 14:36)

That’s what encouraging words will do for a person.

I know.

A few days after I graduated from Salem College two and a half years later, I received a letter in the mail from Dr. Patterson. It was a full page letter congratulating me–and it was not just a form letter--although many of her words were shared with others I'm sure--the rich history of the college--how to keep in touch. Her added thoughts--she knew my life, remembered my anxiety and lows. She had watched me grow. And she encouraged me to never stop learning–at any age.

I still have her letter and read it often.

With all this bickering and hurtful words spewing in our world today–ripping each other to threads–we need more–we have to have more–not more of this hateful noise–but more of the gentle quiet–more warm conversations–more encouraging words–more kindness and more listening to first graders and to our encouragers--our elders–

We need more of.....

Be brave.

Don’t quit.

Don’t give up.

You can do this.

Don't be afraid.

And I’ll add a few more–

Some doors will open--some won't.

You’re going to be fine, I promise.

Faith over fear.

And always remember, you are never alone.

Thank you for your continued kindness in reading The Saturday Journal.